


Scenes from a Marriage: A Story in Three Parts

by MrsHamill



Series: Riding the Wheel of If [30]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-16
Updated: 2004-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6061483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the title says. The last section is the very last possible story in the Wheel saga. Cycle. Thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes from a Marriage: A Story in Three Parts

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me why I'm skipping ahead to this, because I don't have the least idea. I only know I'm happy with it. The last chunk can be considered the very last story in the Wheel thingy. Saga. Cycle. Whatever. Thank you Laura and Claude, for braving tears to help me make this as close to perfect as I could get it. The Clone War arc is actually being written, glory be, and the first story in it will be posted soon, I hope.

**1\. Moving Day**   


The apartment was empty when Obi-Wan returned, and he looked around in dismay. The larger furniture and plants had been moved by the Temple facilities crew early that morning, as he was leaving. He had been out since then, working with the Council and the Master of Initiates, finishing the terabytes of work necessary when moving one's residence and taking a padawan. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had moved many of the smaller items and their clothing throughout the week, in preparation for their finally settling into an apartment with three bedrooms, but even though he had known it was coming, Obi-Wan still felt... melancholy. The single bedroom apartment had been only the second place he had ever felt at home, and it had been his home for sixteen years.

His home... and Qui-Gon's. Once, long ago, shortly after they had married, Qui-Gon admitted that he had moved from his original apartment, the one designed for a master and a padawan, because he couldn't face returning to it, knowing it would be empty. Obi-Wan, the Obi-Wan Kenobi of this reality, had been Qui-Gon's padawan but had died while still young. Qui-Gon confessed he had moved shortly after that, hoping to dispel his guilt and the ghosts.

It hadn't worked. But Obi-Wan's arrival had changed that, and the new apartment had swiftly become a home to both of them.

Now, all he saw were dents in the carpet left by heavy furniture and faint rings of dirt surrounding clean circle dents where the larger plants had been -- odd, the carped hadn't looked dirty until the plants were gone. There was still a small red stain on the carpet (they had moved the sofa so it had been hidden) where Qui-Gon had spilled some red wine while doing a credible job of seducing his husband... how many years ago? Obi-Wan couldn't recall. He could see the 'paths' in the carpet where they walked most frequently -- to the kitchenette, the 'fresher, their bedroom. The walls were echoingly blank, and even the holes where pictures had been hung were filled in with putty, preparatory to painting. He supposed some other knight or master would move in soon, once they were completely... well, banished might be too harsh a word, but it certainly felt like that. Their life, alone together, would be banished from these rooms as much as their furniture had been.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and slowly moved into the bedroom. When he had left Qui-Gon -- at their new apartment, trying to get things moved into the newer, bigger kitchen -- he had been asked to check the old place over, to make sure there was nothing that had been overlooked. Given the fact that both of them had a tendency to collect things, overlooking stuff was quite possible, but he wasn't sure it was a good idea to send him to look. He hated the idea of moving, even if it was just to a different part of the Temple.

The bedroom was also devoid of furniture, save for the one shelving unit that was attached to the wall. That was empty too, and dusty. He could see the dust outlines where things had been placed, pictures and figurines and books, mementos of missions past and missing friends. His memory supplied the pictures that were already set up in their new apartment; pictures of him with Qui-Gon, of Maul and Siri and Bant and Bruck and Loral and Sasha; even of Anakin, a small picture of him smiling with his arm around his beautiful bride.

It wasn't the place that made a home, he said sternly to himself, it was the people. Qui-Gon was his home, and it didn't matter where they lived as long as they were together. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Home was where the heart was, he murmured in the quiet of his mind, and with that, he was finally able to smile.

Acknowledging the melancholy and moving on, Obi-Wan did a quick sweep of the room, including the deep window ledge. Their new apartment had two balconies, one of which was right off the master bedroom, and that was something to look forward to. It also had more storage space and larger closets, and that was a definite plus. In this apartment they had always been cramped for space, he thought, checking the bedroom's only closet carefully. 

The top shelf was actually a bit higher than he was tall; even Qui-Gon had to use a stool to reach the back of it, so it became his shelf, and the one below it (even though it was smaller), Obi-Wan's. Since there was nothing to stand on to see, Obi-Wan had not thought to check the higher shelf.

However... something tickled his conscious thought, a feeling he hadn't had since... Using the Force, he jumped and slowed his fall just enough to see that something, a small bundle, was tucked way back into the shadows of the back of the closet. It was so far back he had to use the Force to bring it forward before he could reach it, and when he unwrapped it and saw what it was, he froze in shock.

A lightsaber. _Qui-Gon's_ lightsaber, but not the Qui-Gon of this reality. It was wrapped in an old sash, and he couldn't imagine why...

"Ah, there you are. Did you..." Obi-Wan looked up to see Qui-Gon standing in the doorway. "Oh. They missed that one? Or... I'll bet it fell out of the box..." Qui-Gon looked surprised and a bit sheepish. "You... didn't know I'd kept it?" 

Obi-Wan couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. Finally, he managed to shake his head. 

"I couldn't get rid of it, Obi-Wan, it's a part of you. A part of who you are, who you were." Qui-Gon sounded as though he had a tight throat as well. "I couldn't use it, not after I rebuilt my own, but..."

"But you kept it," Obi-Wan whispered. He didn't know why the gesture affected him so deeply, but it did.

Qui-Gon swallowed heavily before finally crossing the space between them. "Yes, I kept it." He put his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Like I kept you."

Obi-Wan couldn't take his eyes off the 'saber he held, though he did lean into Qui-Gon's embrace. "More pathetic lifeforms, I suppose," he murmured. "And you're still doing it."

"The only pathetic lifeforms in our life are our plants, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice dry. He squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulders. "And that's only when we forget to water them."

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, but remained where he was, his gaze still focused on the 'saber.

"I had it in a box, but it wasn't... well, it wasn't in anything special. I always meant to put it away, someplace safe, but, well, over the years... It must have fallen out and the movers didn't see it, I suppose."

"It was way in the back of that high shelf," Obi-Wan said softly.

"Ah. I think, perhaps we should find a better box for it, so that it's all by itself." Qui-Gon murmured. "It shouldn't be displayed, but it's precious and needs to be kept... better than I managed it."

"Yes, that's probably a good thing," Obi-Wan managed to say. He swallowed hard and the lump in his throat went down, finally. 

"We'll find something for it. Now, however, we need to get into our dress whites. The children are waiting for us."

"Yes." Obi-Wan dragged his eyes back up to meet those of his spouse. "They've been waiting long enough for us, I think."

"And we still have hours of unpacking to do. Not to mention settling them in their bedrooms, and getting their clothing and things put away."

"At least the new place has two 'freshers," Obi-Wan said, surprised to find himself chuckling. "Think how bad it would be if it only had one."

Qui-Gon kept his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders, and Obi-Wan looped his arm around Qui-Gon's waist as they walked, together, out of the old and into the new.

* * *

**2\. Empty Nests  
**

"Welcome, Knight Skywalker; may your path be of the Light forever." 

Obi-Wan would never admit -- to himself or to anyone else -- how much those words cost him. After the horrifying things Anakin Skywalker did almost twenty years earlier, to knight his son felt like... retribution. A circle completed. Luke was both like and unlike his father; he had the wide-eyed innocence Anakin had, but none of the anger. A gentle soul, Luke would go out of his way to avoid hurting an insect.

Then, of course, there was Leia. The elder (by fifteen minutes) of the twins, her braid had been cut first, and her master, Obi-Wan's husband, showed just as much sentiment as Obi-Wan did in knighting her. Leia and Luke were now officially Jedi knights, and would begin to follow their own path, away from their masters, out on their own.

Yes, they were perfectly capable of doing so, and intellectually, Obi-Wan knew this. Emotionally, however, he still wanted to protect them, wanted to accompany them on their missions to make sure they were safe, wanted to shelter them from the harsh realities of life outside the Temple. The harsh realities that they would try to mitigate, as Jedi knights sent from the Temple to do good. Sent alone, now, without their masters to guide them.

All the mental preparation in the world would have still left him overcome in this moment, though luckily, he knew that. Luckily, he had a spouse who also knew that, and he found Qui-Gon's arm around him even as the two new knights began to greet well-wishers. 

Obi-Wan smiled and rolled his eyes to see Leia's husband, Han Solo, grab her and swing her around. Now, perhaps, they could end the dissembling and have a _real_ bonding; that is, if Han would agree to it. It was probably past due -- they had been married for almost a year, and not even they thought they were fooling anyone any longer. Obi-Wan wasn't sure where they'd picked up on the idea that their bonding would be forbidden until Leia's knighting, but they'd managed to keep everything under wraps for months.

The young people were forming a mob now around the two twosomes of Luke and Wedge Antilles, one of the Temple pilots, and Leia and Han. The older masters stood apart, watching with fondness and not a little sentiment. Obi-Wan heard plans to go out and celebrate and nudged Qui-Gon. "I don't think we want to join them on the revels, do you?" he asked quietly.

Qui-Gon smiled fondly. "No, I think you're right."

So when the children eventually turned towards them, out of an excess of politeness or sense of misguided nobility to ask if their masters would care to accompany them, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan smiled and urged them to go, to have fun, to enjoy themselves. It might be their last time to be carefree, since, as knights, the Council would be wanting them to go out immediately. There were too many things going on in the Republic, and the Senate was still reeling over the treachery of the Malastarians.

As they strolled, hand in hand, back to their apartment, they spoke of the memories they had made with the children. "Remember the screaming matches you and Leia had over her seeing Han?" Qui-Gon asked with a smile. "It's nice to know they won't feel the need to hide their relationship any longer, isn't it."

"Mm-hmm," Obi-Wan agreed. "Remember trying to show Luke how death was still a part of life and he shouldn't fret over taking someone's until it happened?"

"Such a gentle soul. Luke will make a wonderful diplomat."

"Except where his sister is concerned," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "Remember the fights over the 'fresher they used to have?"

"And we thought having two would be sufficient. I had no idea that a teenaged female needed that many hairbrushes." Qui-Gon shook his head. "At least now, she'll have her own 'fresher to store them in."

"Do you think you can count how many times Leia reminded us of her 'royal heritage'?" Obi-Wan chuckled. "Or how many times she threatened to move to Naboo and take on the mantle of queen?"

"For someone as practical as she is, our Leia can be amazingly self-centered at times, and no, you may not tell her I said that."

Obi-Wan laughed outright. "Yoda has said that to me frequently. I never thought I'd hear it from you." They continued for a moment before Obi-Wan added, "I know I won't miss waiting up for them when they were out late."

"I won't miss you waiting up for them either. And I'd like to point out -- for the record -- that I never felt I had to wait up for them. Either of them."

It was an old argument, and Obi-Wan knew he couldn't win, so he gave no rebuttal other than rolling his eyes.

They reached their apartment and entered, but both of them froze just inside the door, caught by the silence. Behind the two doors on their left, they knew they'd find the detritus of two padawans; in Luke's room, a mishmash of models, machine parts, books, tools, clothes and plants. In contrast, Leia's would be almost obsessively neat, with only the small desk -- overflowing with everything from makeup to logic puzzles -- showing her true side. The twins had spent seventeen years with them, and now were gone, leaving their masters to a quiet apartment that was used to the noise of happiness.

Qui-Gon wrapped his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders, and Obi-Wan could feel his husband was as much overwhelmed by it all as he was. After a hard swallow, Qui-Gon spoke with a kind of tentative pleasure. "Well, at least we won't have to lock our bedroom door anymore," he said.

Obi-Wan sighed. "No, I guess not." 

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

"I propose we retire then, and... and celebrate our newly empty apartment." Obi-Wan looked askance at Qui-Gon, who continued, almost defensively. "We're not the first to go through it, you know."

Chuckling, Obi-Wan wrapped his arm around Qui-Gon's waist and let himself be led to the bedroom. "No, you're right."

"A diversion would suit us well, I think."

"You're just hot for me."

"Well of course."

They made love in their bedroom, on the big bed that had followed them from their original apartment, the bed that had, on occasion, slept three and even four; padawans overcome with night terrors or unsure of their place had, sometimes, sought the peace of the bed as well. Now it was just the two of them again, in an apartment that was too quiet. 

Obi-Wan did his best to make up for that, sighing and moaning as he pushed himself into his husband. Qui-Gon's eyes on him were dazed with love and passion, as he made some sounds of his own. When they finally came to rest, after far longer than was normal for them -- growing old did have its advantages, actually -- they wrapped themselves around each other under the quilt their padawans had given them years before.

Yes, growing old was a bit nerve-wracking, but Obi-Wan felt he could handle it, as long as Qui-Gon was by his side. 

In the middle of the night, unable to sleep for some reason, Obi-Wan rose and tossed his robe on before moving to the kitchen to brew some tea. As it was steeping, the door opened and Luke stood there, looking tentative. "Master?"

"Luke? I thought..."

"Wedge has duty early. I thought... maybe I could..." He blew out his breath in a sigh. "I haven't arranged for anything to move, yet..."

"You're entitled to your own apartment, you know. We could help you choose, if you'd like, and help you move." It was an offer made earlier, one Leia had accepted but one which Luke had been silent. Luke scuffed the carpet under his boot and Obi-Wan smiled. "Sit down, padawan. I'll pour you some tea."

When they were comfortably on the sofa, both with fragrant cups of tea, Obi-Wan cocked his head. "What's wrong?"

Luke took a sip of tea and carefully placed the mug on the end table before speaking. "Do I have to move?"

Obi-Wan blinked. This was unexpected. "You want to stay, here, with us?"

Luke nodded, but didn't meet his eyes. "I know, I know, I'm a knight now, and I should have my own apartment. It's just that..."

"You prefer living here."

"Uh-huh."

Firmly quashing his first impulse -- to immediately agree and beg Luke to stay -- Obi-Wan said, "I think you could, if you wanted, but Luke... I think there's another person that needs to be consulted in such a decision."

"Master Qui-Gon?"

"Wedge Antilles." Obi-Wan wanted to smile at the surprise on Luke's face. "I'm not sure he would want to share his lover with his lover's former masters."

"I... I hadn't thought about that." Luke blushed, something Obi-Wan could just see in the dimness of the common room. 

"Why don't you go to bed and we can talk about it, tomorrow. After you've spoken with Wedge. There's no harm in staying for a while in your padawan room, after all, not even Leia has moved all her things to her new apartment."

Luke nodded, and sipped his tea again. "I can do that." He frowned. "What are you doing up so late?"

From the bedroom behind them, Obi-Wan heard Qui-Gon chuckle, and he rolled his eyes.

* * *

**3\. Love is the Key  
**

At the end, it was just the two of them.

Luke had raged and cried and stomped around -- behavior very unbecoming for a Jedi knight -- after being recalled from his mission. Once he had calmed down (Wedge, thank the Force, had been sent to retrieve him and had stayed with him), Luke had said he had known it was bad, known that, once the message finally reached him, he would have to return, to face the unthinkable, to say goodbye. Qui-Gon let him use his shoulder to cry on, though he couldn't do it standing, his bones were just too weak and creaky. And he had shrunk over the years, or had become stooped, or something, because Luke seemed to be as tall as he was, and that was patently ridiculous. Luke's braid might have been cut years before, but Qui-Gon would always see him as his spouse's eager and gentle padawan.

Leia, the ever-pragmatic, the quiet, sharp one who always knew what was going on, was the opposite of Luke. She had been in and out of Qui-Gon's apartment (the same apartment where she and her twin brother had been raised, had been turned into Jedi knights) even before the healers had sent Obi-Wan home. It was Leia who took charge of getting Obi-Wan comfortable on the big bed, it was she who made sure Qui-Gon was eating and resting. And he was, after a fashion. The problem was, he knew why the healers had sent his husband home -- they could do nothing more to help him, and wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.

Obi-Wan had come home to die.

Qui-Gon knew it was so, though he skirted around it, danced around it, continued to use phrases like, 'when you feel better,' and 'soon, we'll go visit...'. It was all a sop, all a sham, all a tired charade because he knew what was happening and feared it with every fiber of his being.

The right side of Obi-Wan's body might be substantially paralyzed and his memory might be fuzzy in places, but his mind, beneath the damage from the series of strokes, was nearly as sharp as ever. So he lovingly, if weakly, greeted friends and family, those who visited in an unending stream, from his position on the bed, their bed. He welcomed hugs from Leia and Han's little ones, letting them cuddle on his left side. He soothed Luke's frenzied and furious sadness, wordlessly asking Wedge to care for him, for Obi-Wan's former padawan, the only padawan he'd ever really had. No one made any mention of Anakin; he was so far in Obi-Wan's past -- even in another universe -- no one even thought of him, not even his children who now stood firmly in the Light.

Han was in and out as well, though he tended to make briefer visits than his wife and his brother-in-law, and hadn't actually gone into the sickroom, despite Leia's encouragement. Han Solo was a man of action, of deeds, and to not be able to do anything, to be impotent in the face of the impending death of his beloved adversary filled him with helpless rage. 

Qui-Gon was in the common room, eating some soup under the watchful eyes of his former padawan when Han finally forced himself to go see Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon didn't know what happened during that meeting, but when Han finally returned, his eyes were red, and his wife immediately went to him, hugging him tightly. Qui-Gon had creaked to his feet then, and had hugged Han as well. It seemed there were no more words to say, so they remained mute.

After everyone else had gone, Leia and Han finally left as well, to collect their children and to check in with the Council and Supreme Chancellor's office. Before leaving, Leia had held her former master tightly, for an exceptionally long time. Puzzled and a bit alarmed, Qui-Gon pulled back from the embrace to see tears in Leia's eyes, eyes that were so much like her mother's, eyes that never wept. He carefully brushed the dampness away with his thumbs and kissed her forehead in gentle benediction, wondering why it felt like a farewell.

Finally, their rooms were silent save for the ghosts of happier times floating through the walls and windows. Qui-Gon stretched out on the bed, on Obi-Wan's good side, and took Obi-Wan's hand, feeling the palsy in it and in his own. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way," he murmured, then was surprised to find Obi-Wan awake.

"'Specting t'goh fhurst, were yuh?" Obi-Wan's left eye sparkled with tired humor as he contemplated his spouse. His speech was still very slurred, since he could no longer move the right side of his mouth, but Qui-Gon understood him well -- he always had. "Shorry 'boot that."

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. "I never expected to reach my century day, let alone one-ten. And here you are, so much younger than I am..." His voice gave out as another lump grew in his throat.

"Dun morr," Obi-Wan said. "Sheen moor akshun, lacy-bons. Don' wanna be alone ennyway."

_I don't want to be alone either,_ Qui-Gon thought to himself. He squeezed the hand he held and felt it briefly flex in reply. "I still don't understand why..." There was only so much healers could do for a brain wracked as it had been by a series of strokes, both large and small. Obi-Wan had been constantly seizing until they had managed to stabilize him. But by then, the damage had been done.

"Fuhorz works en m'sterius wayz," Obi-Wan said, and his voice sounded tired, even more tired than he had been. "Luff iz the key, Kwai. Yuh tol' me that. Luff iz the key."

"I told you that?" Being on Obi-Wan's left side meant that Qui-Gon weak right side was tipped down, and tears began to flow from his eye. 

"Yuh. Tol' me. Longh time 'go."

"I don't remember."

"Duzint madder." Obi-Wan's good eye began to sag shut, and Qui-Gon was abruptly flooded with panic.

"I don't want to be alone, Obi-Wan, please don't go, I can't..." He hadn't meant to admit that, didn't want to say it, to add to Obi-Wan's burden, but the words were out now, and he couldn't recall them. Ruefully, he admitted to himself that Obi-Wan probably knew it anyway.

The eyelid was dragged up, but Obi-Wan's breathing was becoming labored and his lips were turning blue. "Kant... shtay," he ground out. "Shorry, sho shorry..."

Trembling, Qui-Gon reached out and carefully gathered Obi-Wan to his breast, gently arranging the beloved, crippled body atop his own. Obi-Wan was frail, so thin and weak he felt almost insubstantial, like a light blanket protecting him from a cool breeze. Qui-Gon let his hands roam familiar territory while he felt Obi-Wan's heart flutter weakly. Under his fingers he felt all the familiar scars and the new ones the healers had inflicted while trying, and failing, to work their magic. 

Scars... so much had happened to them both in the years and years since his Obi-Wan had literally popped into his life. Lost in memory, Qui-Gon felt tears begin to pour from both his eyes, but he made no move to wipe them away. _Stupid, weepy old man,_ he told himself sternly, trying hard to curb his pained reaction. Then he realized -- there was no one here to see him, he had no reason to hide his weakness. He could cry if that's what his body wished, and it seemed his body did indeed wish that. It was all right, he needn't pretend any longer, needn't hide his heart's agony, and that alone went a long way towards comforting him. They'd had a good life, Qui-Gon thought, a good long run with nothing to be ashamed of. They had accomplished much and, he decided, were entitled to their rest.

He took a sharp breath at that thought, grasping at the lifeline it threw him. "Would it be so terrible for me to come with you?" he whispered. "I'm not needed here, not any longer, the children are handling things just fine. I can't be alone again, Obi-Wan, life without you... I don't think I could bear it." 

Obi-Wan couldn't lift his head and his useless right arm was carefully wound across Qui-Gon's middle, but Qui-Gon could hear him, just barely hear him whisper. "Fuhlish man." His breath stuttered briefly before he continued, even more softly. "Don' wanna be 'lone eether. Be t'gether. Alwayz."

Qui-Gon took a deep, cleansing breath, closed his eyes, and smiled as he released it and everything else. There is no death, there is the Force, he recited in the sudden, sweet peace of his mind. He held out his hand and felt it grasped strongly as they moved, together, towards the Light.

end


End file.
